


Smoke in the Sands

by carricakes, Neils_Pen_To_Paper



Category: HLVRAI - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Animal Violence, Dairy Queen, Drug Use, Drugs, Multi, Swearing, aka coomer fights a deer and wins, gordon keeps the gun hand, like. HEAVY drug use. that's the whole plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:41:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25322557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carricakes/pseuds/carricakes, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neils_Pen_To_Paper/pseuds/Neils_Pen_To_Paper
Summary: Hlvrai road trip au where Tommy gets the Science Team + Darnold fucked up on alien weed and they go to dairy queen.
Relationships: Benrey/Gordon Freeman, Boomer (hlvrai), Bubby/Dr. Coomer (Half-Life), Tommy Coolatta/Darnold, frenrey (hlvrai), sodashipping (hlvrai)
Comments: 50
Kudos: 177





	Smoke in the Sands

**Author's Note:**

> Written by VictorsVoid and Carriecakes on a03, Merpderpcat and Dickless-Mic on tumblr. Thank you Cat (CrackheadMossMan) for Beta Reading. Thank you and the folks at the HLVRAI Mermaid Au Discord for making this possible!

* * *

1

It had been two weeks since Black Mesa crumbled, a resonance cascade caused by a pack of feral scientists, an eldritch security guard, and a tired DILF. They contained it well, somehow, leaving the rest of the world unaware of the horrors they faced. Black Mesa was rendered defunct, bankrupt, and now lay as a mysterious, irradiated ground for the US Military (or what was left of it) to guard. 

The group remained tight-knit, the team moving into Tommy’s massive house. How he afforded anything was something Gordon Freeman didn’t know, and would probably never get an answer to. It really didn’t matter anyway. Money was no issue, seeing as most of the members of the rag-tag bunch weren’t even of this world! 

The thought made Gordon snort. Human. Such a concept nowadays. He wasn’t even sure he was fully human, seeing as his arm was now replaced with a fuck _ing_ **_GUN,_ ** and he-

“M-mister Freeman? Are you okay? You’ve been spacing out for a while…” 

Oh. Right. Gordon realized he’d been staring at a wall as they were watching a movie. It was All Dogs Go To Heaven, the first one. Gordon’s choice, despite Benrey’s protests. The second one was better, the end especially. 

“I-I’m fine, Tommy. Just… Thinkin’...” He turned to his friend, who was wrapped in a blanket with Darnold resting on his lap, Sunkist at his feet. He wore a concerned frown, purring out an analytical hum. 

“Okay, I have an idea!” Tommy suddenly said, getting up and pausing the film.

“C’mon Tommy, Charlie was ‘boutta get murked.” Benrey protested from Gordon’s feet. 

“What’s your idea, Doctor Coolatta?” Coomer asked, wrapped in a loose hug from Bubby. 

“We’re gonna go into the desert an-and get fucked up.” He turned to the team, a smile on his face.

“Wha- Like 2009??” Benrey sounded… terrifyingly excited.

“What happened in 2009?” Gordon’s eyes flicked from Tommy, who was putting shoes and his cap on, to Benrey, sitting politely with a wide grin on their face.

“You don’t want to know…” Bubby responded in a cryptic manner. Gordon sighed, palm to his face. Of course. 

“Everyone get ready, we don’t have any time to waste!” Tommy said, already almost out the door. The group did as told, surprisingly quick despite their usual chaotic nature.

* * *

2

“I call shotgun!” announced Coomer, already opening the front passenger door. 

“I call machine gun,” Bubby added. Apparently, calling ‘machine gun’ means that you’re driving. Not that anyone else would have driven Bubby’s car. Except for maybe that one time Coomer used it to do donuts in the parking lot of the local TGI Fridays.

Gordon ended up in the middle seat, as he usually did. Tommy, who was on his right, had already rolled the window down. Benrey was on his left. They were making a very obvious effort to crowd Gordon, despite the spaciousness of the backseats. Gordon knew that Benrey was waiting for him to say something about it. Gordon silently made the decision to not say anything. Not because it wasn’t annoying (it absolutely was), but because Benry was a prick. This psychological warfare would likely continue for hours. Since there were only 5 seats in the car, and there were 6 people, Darnold decided to ride in the trunk, which was a pocket-dimension that made Gordon's brain hurt just thinking about.

As they cruised down the freeway, Bubby hit the button to replay ‘Doctor Feelgood’ on the car radio a seventh time. No one dared ask him to play a different song; Bubby had demonstrated that he was more than willing to crash a Cadillac out of spite twice in the past week alone. 

Tommy had his hat on his lap, and would go back and forth between fidgeting with its propeller and sticking his head out the open window. It was another Santa Anna night, and Gordon could feel the hot desert air blowing into the backseat area of the car. Gordon contemplated the Duality of Tommy. 

xXx

Bubby eventually pulled off at a rest stop as they were passing through the foothills. Gordon got out to stretch, and took a moment to pace around the area. Some part of his brain still seemed to think that it would be smart to check the area for aliens and soldiers, and, though he knew there wouldn’t be any, he still did. His arm turned into the gun form, almost unconsciously. 

As Gordon returned to the rest area, he aimed his gun arm at the vending machines and fired, making their contents spill out onto the ground in front of him. Absentmindedly singing the words to ‘Doctor Feelgood’ under his breath, Gordon scooped up several cans of soda and bags of chips. He stopped to take note of the members of the Science Team. Tommy had been standing by the vending machines, likely waiting for Gordon to fire into them so that he could have a drink. Bubby was still in the drivers’ seat of the caddy, listening to ‘Doctor Feelgood’ once again. Darnold was sitting on the car’s trunk, writing down something on a clipboard. Benrey was nowhere to be seen, but that was to be expected, and they would probably be back by the time they decided to head out again. Coomer was…

“PUT UP YOUR DUKES, YOU UNGULATE BITCH,” Coomer was shouting to a deer that had been innocently grazing in the grassy area. It raised its horned head and huffed at the man, who was not five feet from the buck. He aimed a punch to the deer’s flank, which landed with a shout from Gordon.

“Dr. Coomer! What the fuck! It’s just a deer!” His shouts fell on deaf ears as the buck charged Coomer, who grabbed it by the horns as they did a dance of death. The buck brayed, a war cry that was returned by Coomer tenfold. 

“IS THAT ALL YOU GOT?!” He howled, landing a solid lower cut to the poor deer’s head. It reared on its hindlegs, and struck Coomer in the shoulder with a hoof. Gordon sat down on the cold concrete as Coomer jumped onto the deer’s back and rode it like a broncho. Gordon sighed in disbelief as he watched the two go at it for what felt like an hour (although it was probably more like 10 minutes). 

“Hey, what’s up, Freefeet?” Benrey sat next to Gordon, head to his shoulder.

“Watching Coomer fight a deer.” He sighed as Coomer was thrown into the building’s side, the deer triumphantly snorting. 

“Oh that’s nice. Y’think he’ll win?” Gordon could feel Benrey smirking on his shoulder. A rhetorical question; nothing fought Coomer and won, unless their name was Bubby. As they said that, Coomer charged the stunned buck, flipping it with a kick and sending it flying with a well timed shoulder punch. It hit a tree and fell, stunned and breathing heavy. Coomer fixed his sleeves, rolling them tighter. The deer gained a brain cell and gave a bleat before limping off into the forest. 

“Gordon, I won!” Coomer said with a prideful smile, running up to the two sitting men. He had blood on his fists and shirt, most definitely not his.

“Good uh- good job, Dr. Coomer…” Gordon responded with a defeated sigh. Better to give in than try to argue, trust him, he’s got three months of experience with that. 

“Are you fuckers ready to go?” Came Bubby’s annoyed yell. 

“Yep. Let’s go…”

xXx

The foothills soon began to give way to the open desert, and the grasslands gradually transitioned into an open rocky landscape flanked on either side by red-tinged mountains. Gordon never would have thought he’d be happy to see the desert again, but the reddish land and open blue sky were a welcome reassuring sight. At least from what he could see of it from around Benrey’s head. 

Benrey cleared their throat to start a conversation. “How long do you think it’d take for someone to die here?”

Gordon stared at Benrey blankly. “What?”

“The desert. If we get stuck here I wanna know how fast you’ll die.”

“I have no fucking- Why do you think we’re gonna get stuck here.”  
“Dude, I wanna know, cuz…” The rest of their sentence was incomprehensible as they hid their face in their hoodie.

“What was that?”

“... cuz I wanna know if we can make out before then.”

Gordon snorted. “I think we’ll have plenty of time before we die.”

“Cool. Just didn’t know how fast humans die without water.”

Tommy chimed in from beside them. “Benrey- Benrey I think humans take 3 days to die without water.”

“Humans- do you guys not need water?”

“Bro, we don’t even need to vape oxygen.”

“ _Vape oxygen-”_

“Dad took me to the moon once!”

“Fucking- _what_?”

“You could- could see the Great Wall of China from there!”

“Alright…” Gordon was so far from ready to think about the cryptid powers of his friends. Those already could fill up an encyclopedia.

“Wait! I just realized something,” Benrey jutted in.

Gordon sighed. “About what.”

“We could make out for 3 days!”

“I still need air, jackass.”

Benrey seemed to genuinely think about that for a second. “... we can take breaks.”

Gordon blinked, and then let out a small, genuine laugh. Fuck, that felt good. Benrey’s antics were annoying, for sure, but right now? He really needed something to take his mind off the horror they’d experienced just two weeks ago.

Benrey looked like they were about ready to short-circuit, pupils dilated so much they obscure their irises. Gordon had no idea that just laughing could have that much of an effect on them, and suddenly got an idea. 

Gordon pushed Benrey backward by their shoulder, and muttered, “You know, we don’t have to wait for the desert.”  
“Wha-?” Benrey muttered, glancing at Gordon’s lips for a moment.

Bubby abruptly stopped the car. “We’re here! Get the fuck out.”

Gordon glanced in Bubby’s direction, before smirking and turning to Benrey. Benrey looked like all of their blood (?) had rushed to their face.

“Well, guess we’ve already waited for the desert, then, huh?”

Benrey slow-blinked. “Huh- Wha?”

Gordon pulled the handle on the car door Benrey had pressed themselves up against. Benrey scrambled to sit upright, throwing their arms around Gordon’s neck to avoid falling backwards and burying their face in Gordon’s shoulder.

“Fuck- not cool, man!” Benrey whined.

Gordon chuckled to himself as he helped Benrey get upright and step out of the car. 

“Ah, young love!” Coomer cooed from the front seat.

* * *

3

They set up shop a little ways from the car. Unfortunately, Darnold’s pocket dimension left no space for anyone to pack folding canvas chairs for the campfire; they’d have to sit on the ground. 

“One fire pit coming up!” Coomer announced as the impact of his fist created a small crater in the center of the circle. After tossing in a few snapped-off branches from the scrubby desert trees around them (and a bit of help from Bubby to light the damn thing), they had a decent little fire pit to huddle around. 

Tommy had already unzipped his duffle bag, and was now neatly rolling some of its contents into a blunt. After stopping to admire his handiwork, Tommy lit the end with a custom zippo lighter and sampled it. 

“Be.. Be careful Mister Freeman,” Tommy warned as he passed Gordon the joint. “This is the STRONG stuff.” Gordon examined the joint before taking a couple puffs from it. It seemed perfectly normal. A bit pungent, but still normal.

“I was in college, dude,” Gordon muttered. “I can handle weed perfectly fine.”

Gordon passed the joint over to Coomer. 

“Thank you, my good bitch!” Coomer chuckled as he took a hit. Gordon opened up the notepad on his phone. In college, he’d always liked to take notes while he was stoned. 

**_10:35 pm_ ** _: Not feeling much. It’s been about a minute though. It’s nice spending time with the guys out here, though._

Gordon grumbled a bit in frustration at typing with his non-dominant hand. He still wasn’t used to it, but at least he wasn’t accidentally shooting holes in the screen like he’d done at first.

“Benrey, you insufferable whore! Did you really eat the goddamn joint again?!” Bubby moaned, exasperated. 

Gordon looked up from his phone as Benrey cackled. He wasn’t really even phased by the idea of Benrey eating a still-lit joint. It was in character for him, if nothing else. He looked back down at his phone to make another note.

 **_10:36 pm_ ** _: Benrey ate the joint. Because of course he did. Starting to dissociate a little. Not sure if that’s the weed or just a mood._

Tommy seemed to have expected this from Benrey, as he was already lighting up a bong that seemed to be shaped like a bootleg version of Bart Simpson.

 **_10:37 pm_ ** _: Consume Garment™_

Gordon watched Darnold and Tommy share the bong amongst each other. He reached out in a gesture that roughly translated to ‘I would like to take a hit off of Bong Simpson; please hand him to me, dude.’

“Are一are you sure Mister Freeman? This is, this stuff is pretty strong. It could be dangerous.”

Gordon huffed exasperatedly, “Yes, Tommy. I’m absolutely sure. I'm not a pussy, Tommy.”

“That’s right, Tommy!” Coomer added. “Doctor Pussy minored in sweet ganja at MIT!”

Gordon nearly dropped Bong Simpson as he lost his composure. 

“Doctor Coomer, I didn’t… I didn’t major in一” He paused, wheezing with laughter. “I didn’t minor in… Sweet Ganja at MIT一”

“Oh! My apologies, Gordon!” Dr. Coomer responded, before turning back to Tommy. “Correction! Doctor Pussy majored in Sweet Ganja during grad school!” 

Gordon spent the next few moments trying to take a proper bong hit amongst fits of laughter.

“Lookit… Look at fuckin, Giggleboy Gordos over here…” Benrey sneered. “Gonna fucking inhale the bong water.”

Gordon lost his shit again.

“You’re gonna fuckin drown on bong water in the middle of the fuckin desert, bro,” Benrey continued. “We’re gonna have to give you a fucking… viking funeral. Feetman the Bongwater Viking.”

“Sshshuut up,” Gordon wheezed and weakly tried to offer Bong Simpson to Benrey. “Do you want to… Are you gonna eat the fucking bong, too?”

“Of course not, Gordon! He’s not a fucking animal!” Bubby chided as he intercepted Bong Simpson. 

Gordon had rolled onto his back in a fit of hysterical giggling. As the giggles faded, Gordon tried to push himself back up to sit criss cross applesauce, only to be 1-hit KO’d by the sight of Benrey voraciously guzzling the bong water as Bubby cheered them on. 

Benrey soon shuffled over to Gordon and contentedly began to blow smoke rings (Gordon guessed that the joint Benrey had eaten was somehow still producing smoke). After a while of this, Benrey started to blow familiar luminescent Sweet Voice bubbles, which passed through the smoke rings. 

Gordon, who was still laying on the ground, watched as the lights danced in and out of the smoke rings with the glow of the Milky Way in the backdrop. It was like a laser light show at a planetarium. Except that ‘In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida’ wasn’t playing.

Benrey eventually seemed satisfied with their performance art piece (?) and flopped down on their stomach next to Gordon. They brought their hand up to cup Gordon’s chin, gently squishing his cheeks. 

“Sup,” Gordon murmured.

“Sup,” Benrey replied. There was a long, gay silence. 

“You drank the fucking…” Gordon giggled. “You drank the fucking bong water.”

“Yeah,” Benrey paused. “Wanna kiss about it?” Gordon gave a sigh that turned to a laugh.

“Y’know what? Yeah.” And so they did kiss about it. It wasn’t really romantic in the way a cheesy romance flick would play out. Or maybe it was. It was hard to tell without any swelling background music. It was just kinda quiet. Still, it was pretty nice. Oh shit? What do people do after kissing?

Gordon paused for a moment to consider his options. The gay silence loomed overhead like a dark cloud. Then he had an epiphany.

“Yo. We should fuckin… Go to Ohio.”

“Oh hell yeah, we could go fuck up Mothman,” Benrey smirked, “maybe kick Bigfoot’s ass while we’re at it.”

“Mothman… Doesn’t he live in West Virginia?”

“Blue Ridge Mountains? Shenandoah River?” Benrey asked.

“Life is old there. Older than the trees,” Coomer remarked in a sing-song voice.

“Younger than the mountains. Blowin’ like the breeze,” Bubby added matter-of-factly.

Gordon’s last coherent memory was of the Science Team bursting out into song, and singing the chorus to ‘Country Roads,’ which echoed across the desert for miles.

xXx

Gordon knew something was weird about his situation before he even opened his eyes. He was still very much out of it, but compared to the previous… night (?), he felt significantly more lucid. As he stirred, he realized he had been lying face-down on an asphalt surface. He couldn’t see much without his glasses on, but he could see that the sky was now blue. Gordon dragged his fingers through his hair, which was now tangled and full of twigs, pine needles, and一 Oh, there his glasses were. Nice.

Upon putting his glasses back on, Gordon realized that he was in a parking lot. Specifically, a Denny’s parking lot. He was in his boxers, and he had apparently shaved his legs at some point. He was also wearing several rubber bands around his gun arm like bracelets. They looked like the kind of bands you’d see being used to keep lobsters from using their claws. 

Gordon staggered to his feet, and turned around, only to be greeted by the sight of a monolithic, white letter ‘D,’ which appeared to have several hundred pancakes stapled to it. He took a step forward, but tripped over what appeared to be Benrey, who was laying perfectly still on their back, staring directly up into the sky.

“Buh… Benrey?” Gordon slurred. “What the fuh… What the fuck happened?”

Benrey did not blink, nor did they look away from the sky. They were definitely still out of it.

“...Nice,” Benrey mused, to no one in particular.

Deciding that Benrey likely wouldn’t be able to do much in the way of figuring out the situation, Gordon pulled his phone out of the front pocket of his hoodie to check his notes from the night before.

 **_10:35 pm:_ ** _Not feeling much. It’s been about a minute though. It’s nice spending time with the guys out here, though._

 **_10:36 pm:_ ** _Benrey ate the joint. Because of course he did. Starting to dissociate a little. Not sure if that’s the weed or just a mood._

 **_10:37 pm:_ ** _Consume Garment™_

**_10:48 pm:_ ** _TO THE PLAAACE WHERE I BELOOOOONG_

 **_11:22 pm:_ ** _Mothman dies tonight._

 **_11:30 pm:_ ** _This weed is weak as shit._

 **_11:31 pm:_ ** _Lookin’ for Mathman at a Jambo Juice_

 **_11:53 pm:_ ** _My consciousness is echoing. It’s like when you put two mirrors together and create a tunnel effect, except the mirrors are my thoughts and the tunnel is my brain. Or maybe the mirrors are my brain?_

 **_11:69 pm:_ ** _Smooooothest legs in Amurica the USA god bless_

 **_69:69 acdc:_ ** _The bonkwater was Carpisun wtf? Tommy I respecded you_

 **_12:11 am:_ ** _haha twelve eleven. like counting backward lol_

 **_12:30 am:_ ** _we are thinkin with portals tonight babyyy_

 **_12:49 am:_ ** _mammoth? momath? mothmath? fuck its mathman? lol no its mothman_

 **_1:24 am:_ ** _found you bitch_

 **_1:56 am:_ ** _mothmoth is not dead because we spared him he is on the run from the IRS and doesn’t need to deal w/any more bullshit_

 **_2:45 am:_ ** _Portal to Michigan? Portal to Michigan! Great idea!_

 **_2:46 am:_ ** _why are we in michigan_

 **_3:17 am:_ ** _got lost?_

 **_3:57 am:_ ** _benry benerty_

 **_4:18 am:_ ** _OH_

 **_4:19 am:_ ** _._

 **_4:20 am:_ ** _FOURE TWENMTY helllllll yeaskjdfklhdgj_

 **_4:20 aM:_ ** _flour twemty forevre and awlays babey_

 **_4:20 am:_ ** _where did michigan go_

 **_4:20am:_ ** _sreiosly wehere is migichan_

 **_4:20 am?:_ ** _chaogo… chicalo. chicagooooo_

 **_420am:_ ** _even if time sotp moveing the colck sill ticks here chigaco_

 **_420ma:_ ** _aaaaaaaaaaportal?????_

 **_4:20 am:_ ** _benr y and i are goin to los angles the city of angles because we are…. A cute_

 **_4:20 am:_ ** _phoone? Phooone. PHONNEEE??? HELP IM A PHONE_

 **_4:20 am:_ ** _had an idea. also am not a phone lol. Echoooooo_

 **_20:4 amss:_ ** _gonna steal tje d_

 **_Four-Twenty AM:_ ** _dddddddddddddddddd_

 **_4:20 am:_ ** _THE D IS OURSSSS_

 **_4:20 am:_ ** _forgot what time it is_

 **_4:20 am:_ ** _bufitul sunsest just me benery and the letter D_

 **_4:20 ass:_ ** _hahahahahaa didn’t mean to type ass lol_

 **_4:20 am:_ ** _teleporst_

 **_4:20 am:_ ** _Human consciousness is so weird. You ever think about how you will only ever have your own consciousness as frame of reference for the experiences of others? How different do you think you’d be if you grew up somewhere else? If you’d had different friends in school? Would that other you even be recognizable as you if you traded places with them? What if you swapped consciousnesses with someone but the memories stayed with your original bodies? Would you basically act the same as that person did? I hate time travel in movies by the way._

 **_4:20 am:_ ** _what if you hired a quantum mechanic to fix car…_

 **_4:20 ma:_ ** _lobster? lombser friend… will save u_

 **_4:20 am:_ ** _lomster friends… aquired_

 **_4:20 am:_ ** _be freeeeeeeee_

 **_4:20 am:_ ** _all dogs go to heaven… all lovsters go to wyoming_

 **_4:20 am:_ ** _its ok they brethe salt and no salt_

 **_4:20 am:_ ** _OH SHJIT I FORGOT ABOUT BIGFOOST_

 **_4:20 am:_ ** _if benrey mentions any ‘feet pics’ bullshit in regards to bigfoot i will personally murder them_

 **_4:20 am:_ ** _So like. Time travel. It annoys the fuck outta me in movies because if you were to travel back or forwards in time you wouldn’t be in the same place! The earth is travelling at thousands of miles per hour around the sun which in turn travelling even faster around the center of the Milky Way Galaxy, which is travelling around whatever the fuck is at the center of the universe (we think it’s a black hole, but theories are always changing). Anyone who would want to time travel is a fucking idiot and I have no respect for them. Unless they’re an astronaut or something._

 **_4:20 am:_ ** _still haven’t found bigfoot. Fucking. Monky_

 **_4:20 am:_ ** _got a call from bubby. he says he fought god behind a 7-11. lmao im glad im not that fucked up. thatd be embarrassing lol_

 **_4:20 am:_ ** _BIGFOOT_

 **_4:20 am:_ ** _nvm it was some dude named larry walking his dog_

 **_4:20 am:_ ** _larrys dog is named ruby :)_

 **_4:20 am:_ ** _where the fuck did this bigass d come from. that’s hilarious. big ol’ d._

 **_4:20 am:_ ** _gRAMD SLAM_

Gordon scrolled through the notes, only vaguely remembering the events that correlated with each one. He then checked the time. It was 4:45 in the morning, but...

It had been over a week since they had smoked… weed? ...Since they had smoked _something_ out in the desert. Specifically, it had been approximately eleven days since Gordon had seemingly formed a coherent thought. 

_Shit_ , Gordon thought as he dialed Tommy’s number.

* * *

4

A bell chimed as the Science Team and Benrey walked into the Dairy Queen at 6 AM, all thoroughly inebriated and shaky on their feet. Thankfully, they were not nearly as fucked up as they had been a few hours ago, and where they ended up was coincidentally right next to the only Dairy Queen in the United States that the Science Team was not yet banned from. Yet.

Gordon and Benrey were bickering, as usual.

“How the fuck did we steal the D. Why did we steal the D. Why did we staple pancakes to the D. These are all important questions, Benrey.”

"Why not, lol."

"Say el-oh-el out loud again, and I'll gut you."

“The ‘Grand Slam’ was your idea, bro.”

“I refuse to believe that for legal reasons.”

Coomer giggled behind them. “Hollywoo…” The group burst into laughter after that, causing Gordon’s face to turn beet-red.

Tommy took the liberty of taking everyone’s orders, given that he was by far the least hungover person in the establishment at that point. (Gordon wondered how high his tolerance was, and immediately stopped wondering when his head filled with static. Damn magic drugs.) That counted the cashier, who looked thoroughly stoned and oddly familiar.

“Yoo! Forzen!” Benrey shouted, and _honestly that was the least strange thing to happen that day._ Forzen wasn’t nearly as recognizable without his signature red beret, and the Dairy Queen hat he was currently wearing was hilariously unfitting. The fact that he was alive was also unsettling, but not unexpected.

“Oh fuck,” Forzen groaned, “not you guys.”

“What’s wrong with us?!” Bubby demanded, slurring and leaning heavily on Coomer.

“You guys are always so mean to me,” Forzen whined. “I left the military to get away from you, and now you’re here and-” He looked about ready to cry. Guess he was a teary stoner.

“Yo, chillax. We’re just here to order,” Benrey comforted him.

Bubby snickered. “That’s what she said…” Tommy cleared his throat. 

“Uh, yeah, we’ll have…” Tommy leaned over towards Gordon. “... What did you want?”

Gordon rubbed his temples and leaned on the counter with his forearms, attempting to read the light-up menu behind Forzen. “Uh, I’ll just have a mini Oreo blizzard.”

Now it was Benrey’s turn to snicker. “Bro, that’s basic.”

Gordon tried to shove Benrey’s shoulder, but ended up gingerly nudging him. “Shut up, it’s good.”

Coomer piped up with his order, “I’ll have one Dilly Bar.”

“Harold, that’s just fudge and ice cream,” Bubby argued. “You’re as bad as Freeman.”

Coomer’s expression suddenly turned dark. “ **Dilly. Bar.** ”

If looks could purge drugs created by an eldritch being out of one’s system, Bubby would have been rendered completely sober. “Alright. If that’s what you want.”

Coomer’s expression immediately perked back up. “Thank you!”

Bubby cleared his throat, “I’ll have a dipped cone.”

“Bubby, dear, I’m afraid that’s the exact same thing,” Coomer teased.

“No, it’s not!” Bubby protested. “Soft serve is better!”

“It is still comprised of fudge and vanilla ice cream, though.”  
“Wanna fight about it?!” Bubby demanded.

“You know it!” Coomer exclaimed. “Beat you to the parking lot!”

Coomer and Bubby rushed out the door, followed by Darnold, yelling over his shoulder, “I’ll make sure they don’t kill anybody. Just get me the usual.”

Tommy responded, “You got it!”

“‘The usual’?” Gordon questioned.

Tommy simply gave him a small smile and turned to Forzen. “I’ll have two Mixology-s!”

Forzen didn’t even blink as he wrote the order down. “‘Kay.” He sniffed a little, still teary-eyed.

“What is that?” Gordon whispered to Benrey, who ignored him to make their own order.

“Uhhh, I’ll have a blizzard without the cream.”

“W- Without the cream,” Gordon repeated blankly, “You just want the toppings? Which Blizzard do you even want?”

“All of them.”

“That only answered one of my questions.”

“Yes.”

Gordon blinked, his vision blurring a little. “... I’ve lost track of our conversation.” Damn those fucking drugs.

“LMAO, you would.”

“... remind me to punch you for spelling L-M-A-O out loud later.”

“...Wha?”

“Nevermind.”

Forzen cleared his throat. “That’ll be $69.69, sir.”

Tommy handed him a card, though it wasn’t from any name-brand bank. Gordon did not even want to consider where the money came from. Forzen went into the back after swiping Tommy’s card and miraculously returned with all of the Science Team + Benrey’s orders just a moment later. Forzen handed Tommy the rest of the Science Team’s orders as he flipped the two Blizzards (well only one Blizzard, technically) upside down, the only-toppings cup somehow also refusing to bow to the whim of gravity, despite being literally just a bunch of sprinkles and gummy bears.

“How did you manage that?!” Gordon exclaimed as he was given his Blizzard.

“Melted the candy,” Forzen muttered. “I get yelled at if the Blizzard doesn’t stay in the cup when held upside down.”

Thankfully, Coomer and Bubby chose that moment to walk back into the establishment, with Coomer carrying Bubby bridal-style and Bubby trying desperately to pat out the flames dancing down his arms. Darnold rushed in after them and leaned on Tommy as he tried to catch his breath.

“Thanks babe!” Tommy kissed Darnold on the cheek as he handed him his “Mixology.”

“‘M still not sure wh’ th’ fuck that is,” Gordon muttered over a mouthful of Blizzard.

“It’s the Ultimate Float!” Tommy explained, unhelpfully.

“It’s the perfect combination of all the greatest sodas, with ice cream on top to make it even more perfect,” Darnold added, much more helpfully.

“...I don’t really wanna imagine what that tastes like,” Gordon replied. He took another bite of his Blizzard.

Benrey leaned towards him. “Hey, can I get a taste?”

Gordon sighed and scooped up some of the ice cream. “Open up-”

He was cut off by Benrey kissing him. Gordon could taste the mini Reese’s on their tongue. It was… really nice.

Benrey took in a sharp breath when they broke apart. “Nice.”

Gordon realized he dropped his spoon during the kiss. “Fuckin’- Wasted perfectly good ice cream, dude.”

“You liked it though.”

“... shut up.”

Forzen sighed and handed Gordon another long spoon for his Blizzard. “Can you guys please stop getting ice cream everywhere.”

Coomer took that moment to eat off the top of his husband’s ice cream cone, dripping ice cream on the floor.

“HAROLD-”

“I won the fight, dear, I get to reap the spoils.” Bubby grumbled and protected his cone with his hand. 

Gordon was reminded of going to Dairy Queen with Joshua, and then realized something. “FUCKSHIT-”

Benrey raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Joshie’s probably gonna want some too, he hasn’t had much Dairy Queen since his mom moved-”

“Well, shit, dude, we gotta fix that.”

“You’re right.” Gordon waved to Tommy. “Hey, Tommy, if I order something for Joshua, can you fuckin’ teleport it over to him or something?”

Tommy looked deep in thought for a moment. “W-well, I can’t do that, Mr. Freeman, but my dad can!”

“Can you, uh, call him?”

“Sure!” Tommy then turned to an empty space to his left. “Hey Dad?”

Gordon blinked as the lights flickered, and suddenly, there stood G-Man. “Yes… Timothy?”

“GGH- Fuck!” Gordon flinched back, but Tommy remained completely calm. He’d probably seen his dad teleport thousands of times.

“Can you- can you get some ice cream to Joshua?”

“Of course… I have… been… looking afffffter him this whole time… after all.”

Gordon resisted the urge to question any of that interaction, and turned to Forzen. “Can we get a mini Frosted Animal Crackers Blizzard as well?”

Forzen grumbled, but went to the back again and came out a moment later with the treat in question. “Now, will you guys leave.”

“Yeah, we gotta get home right about now,” Gordon yawned.

Tommy handed G-Man the cup. “Yeah! Sunkist has to be getting tired by now.”

“I ssssshall… see you there.”

The lights flickered as G-Man made his exit, and the Science Team stumbled back into the parking lot.

* * *

5

The freezing cold was the first thing G-man noticed as he warped back to Earth, his hand wrapped around the Frosted Animal Crackers Blizzard meant for his grandson. Well, his son’s friend’s son. Which was close enough for G-man. The door to the mansion he lived in was opened with his empty hand.

“Gampa!” A tiny voice said, breaking the extraterrestrial from his thoughts. “Look! Cowboys is on!” Ah, the man of the hour. Joshua tugged at his pants, leading him to the couch where Joshie and Sunkist were before G-man left. There was an animated film on the Television’s screen, a cowboy as the protagonist. 

“H-how… wonderffffful, Josh.” He replied after a pause, setting the cold food on the table, next to the child’s scribbles. “Your father bought you… A Blizzard, fffrom Dairy Quee-en… B-because. You’re Epic.” Benrey taught him that phrase, though he decided to replace ‘Dunky Donuts’ with the appropriate eatery. 

“T’ank you, Slenderman!” Was what the 6-year-old responded with, before going hog wild on the ice cream. Just like his father.

_Fin._


End file.
